Beyond the Lies
by Paisley Mae
Summary: Outside Heaven Sub-Story: Peter Petrowski had moved on years ago. He was a new college graduate, was about to begin his career, and was focused on the love of his life. Just when he thought his life was next to perfect, she returns with a startling secret
1. Chapter 1

**Author's ****Note****: **This is a sub-story of _Outside Heaven_, taken from Peter's point of view. It begins in 2012. You don't necessarily need to read _Outside Heaven _to read and enjoy this, but to understand the full background story; it'd help if you did. This story is for all you Peter fans.

* * *

Beyond the Lies

December 2012

Chapter 1

_Her soft lips pressed against his. Their noses rubbed against each other as a warm sensation entered his body. His arms slowly lowered down her hips as he started to take her shirt off. Together they lay on a sandy beach, like the one he and his family had vacationed to the summer before he had gone off to college. _

_The hot sun beat down on him. He watched her sun-kissed shoulders twinkle as the sun hit them. Yet, their eyes did not meet. Their lips continued to touch as she started to pull off his shirt. Then the moment came when their lips separated, and he could finally make out her face._

_Her dark brown curls moved in the wind like the ocean waves. Her smile caused his heart to stop. He hadn't seen her face in years, but she had not aged a day since that last time he had lain his eyes on her._

"_Ruthie Camden," he mouthed. _

Peter Petrowski's head pounded into his skull as his eyes popped open at once. His armpits were damp with sweat. _Ruthie Camden, _his thoughts circled around a name that had not crossed his mind in years. His heart thudded rapidly. Slowly, trying not move the mattress, he turned so he was lying on his other shoulder.

His eyes froze on the body that lay next to him. Gently, trying not to wake her, he found himself stroking her wavy, sand-colored hair.

The last four years had been full of ups and downs, but she had been there for him all along the way. Without her, Peter knew that he would not have been capable of graduating with his bachelor's degree of psychology a semester early. Every night, despite their long distance, she had been by his side to comfort him.

There was never a time she would not answer her phone for him, or if she couldn't, she would call him back as soon as possible. Her schedule was busy, and he understood that, but she never failed to make time in her day for him. Three years ago she had completed the nursing program at Crawford, and she currently worked as a registered nurse at the Glen Oak Hospital. She was currently working in the maternity ward.

"Peter," he heard Meredith's soft voice murmur. "What time is it?"

Frowning, because he had awoken her, he glanced toward the clock on her nightstand. His jaw dropped when he saw the red _10:35 _flash across the screen. "Ten thirty-five," he whispered. "Crap!" He pushed the covers off his body and immediately jumped out of bed. Immediately he began forcing his legs into his dirty jeans that were lying on the floor. He had promised his sister that he would pick her up from school at eleven. It was the kids' last day of school before winter vacation; despite the fact Christmas was still six days away.

Schools nationwide had decided to let the kids out of school a few days early, due to the impending fears of world ending on Friday. Many families were holding their Christmas parties early, so the schools decided to comply.

Personally, Peter believed it was all foolish talk. He had done a research paper on the Mayans during his sophomore year of college. Through his mind-boggling research, he had come to realize that the Mayan calendar only ended its cycle in 2012. The calendar was nothing more, or nothing less, than a cycle. People just took everything far too literally.

Meredith slowly sat up, watching Peter quickly throw his shirt on. Peter smiled weakly, looking into her cocoa-brown eyes. Her red lips formed a weak smile. She extended her legs, her feet met the ground and she walked toward him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and her lips pressed against his. "I'll see you later, Peter. Say hi to your sister for me, okay?"

He nodded, smiling, "I shall do that. She adores you."

Meredith blushed.

Breaking away from his girlfriend's grip, Peter made a run for the door. He ran out of the apartment and landed himself in his blue Mustang. He flew to the elementary school, only going ten miles over the speed limit, and managed to pull in right at eleven o'clock.

Kids had just begun pouring out of the building. Memories of Peter's only childhood flooded into his head as he watched the kids' gleaming smiles. He sighed, remembering the last days of school before winter or summer vacation. At the time, it felt like there was no feeling that could beat the feeling of having two weeks off from school.

He heard a light tap on his window. He jumped, alarmed. Turning around, he saw the grin of his seven-year-old sister. Smiling back at her, he unlocked the door.

She opened the door, setting her pink-flowered backpack on his seat. "Peter, you came!" she chirped, sitting down.

Peter smiled, looking at his sister in the rear-view mirror. "What, did you think I wouldn't?" Peter chuckled. It was then he noticed another small blonde girl in his peripheral vision. He recognized her immediately as Emmy's best friend. Savannah Kinkirk had spent countless hours at his parents' house, and Peter knew quite well that Emmy spent an equal amount of hours at Savannah's home. _The same house that I practically lived at during my seventh and eighth grade years_, Peter's stomach turned upside down.

Emmy giggled. "I knew you'd come, Peter. Hey, is it okay if you give Savannah a ride home? I told her she could tell her mom you'd take her home."

Peter's heart dropped. Emmy tended to have a habit of volunteering him for duties like that.

Forcing a smile, turning his head and looking back at the girls, he whispered, "Of course."

Savannah and Emmy both wore wide grins as Savannah took a seat in the back next to Emmy. Both girls reached for their seat belts, and Peter slowly shifted the car into drive. He slowly began driving. He forced his attention to remain on the road, though his thoughts had a mind of their own.

He hadn't been to 527 Alda Road since all hell had broken loose four years ago. Despite knowing his feelings toward Ruthie, that hadn't stopped his parents from remaining in good terms with Kevin and Lucy. Peter just had not been able to bring himself to come near the house since all had gone down. The house itself brought back too many memories.

"Peter, are you coming to my mom's Christmas party tomorrow?" Savannah eagerly boasted.

Peter swallowed. "What Christmas party? I don't think I was invited." He lied, knowing that he had heard his parents mention the fact that Lucy was holding a big Christmas festival on the twentieth.

"Me and Mom and Dad are going," Emmy stated.

"That's weird that my parents wouldn't invite you, hm." Savannah lifted an eye brow. Her blue eyes twinkled as she said, "Well, if anyone asks, you can say I invited you."

Peter forced himself to smile for the little girl. At the same time, he turned onto Alda Road. "I'll think about it, Savannah," he assured her, driving down this street. Only minutes later, he found himself pulling into a driveway that he hadn't seen in years.

The house was all lit up. The Camdens had always been big on decorating during the holidays, and it was clear that Kevin and Lucy were working to ensure the tradition. As he parked the car, Savannah pushed the door open. She turned to Emmy and said, "I'll see you tomorrow, Em!" She then looked at Peter, "I hope to see you, too!" The little girl's white teeth shimmered as she smiled, slammed the door, and raced toward the gate. It was the very gate Peter himself had passed through many times during his youth.

Peter sighed as he pulled out of the driveway before any of Savannah's relatives could see him. He started heading down the street, toward the highway.

"You're going to come, right, Peter? You never come over to Savannah's house, why's that?" his sister immediately inquired.

"Em, it's a long story. Let's just say I have a lot of memories in that house," Peter explained to his sister. He knew that he could not make the seven year old understand. She was too young, and his reasoning was too complex. He knew that Meredith would never go for it, either.

Meredith despised Ruthie. He could never fully understand why she despised Ruthie. After all, Ruthie had not done anything directly to her. Meredith was only upset at Ruthie for what Ruthie had done to him. Sometimes Peter regretted calling Meredith after it had all happened, but she was so easy to talk to. He didn't know who else he could have called, and he needed somebody to talk to.

"Why kind of memories?" Emmy whispered.

"Like I said, it's a long story. Don't worry about it." He saw the little girl's lip pucker up through the rearview mirror, like she did when she was pouting. Nonetheless, he had no desire to explain his affair with Ruthie Camden to a seven year old.

"But, Peter, you have to go to the party! For me, please?" the little girl whimpered.

"I don't know—"

"I'm your little princess still, aren't I?" the little girl's blue eyes watered up.

Peter released a sigh as he merged onto the highway. "Why, of course you are," he said, knowing there was no way out of it. The little girl's eyes lit up. "I'll tell you what; I'll come to the party, okay?"

"You have to promise!"

"I promise."

As he spoke the words, he knew Meredith would not be elated.

(~)

"No, absolutely not; I swear, if that bitch is there, which she will be…"

"Meredith," he pleaded, "I promised Emma." He had dropped Emma at his parents' house about an hour ago. Since then, he had been dreading approaching Meredith about going to the parsonage the next day.

Meredith shook her head; her wet brown hair slapped against her face. She had just gotten out of the shower when Peter had entered the apartment.

"You know I love your sister," Meredith spoke, "but, I know that if I see Ruthie again I won't be able to contain myself. That bitch needs to be put in her place."

After the long and countless hours he had spent talking to Meredith, he had never heard her speak so ruthless about anyone except Ruthie. Meredith had a heart of gold, but when it came to Ruthie, it was like she completely lost her sanity.

"Meredith," his voice soothed. He grabbed her and wrapped his arms around her. Gently, he rubbed his nose against her strawberry-scented hair. "You will contain yourself just fine. Meredith, you have self-control. I know you do."

A tear started to roll down Meredith's cheek. "I just…don't get it. Matt is such a good guy. He's an amazing doctor, and then he has a sister like Ruthie. I just don't get it."

"Matt?" Peter inquired.

"Ruthie's oldest brother," Meredith spoke quickly. "I work with him at the hospital."

"Oh," Peter lifted a brow. He had completely forgotten.

Over the years, he had barely gotten to know Matt. When Peter had come into Ruthie's life, Matt was away at medical school in New York. Over the two years he had become close to Ruthie, he had gotten to know Simon and the twins, Sam and David. The only time he had gotten the chance to become acquainted with Matt had been those few months he had spent with Ruthie after her accident. And even then, Peter felt like he barely knew Matt.

"You know," Meredith whispered. "Her name fits her personality perfectly: Ruthless."

Peter couldn't control himself as he cracked a smile, and laughed slightly.

Meredith shook her head. "All right, I'll go. But I'm not promising to control myself," she spoke sternly. "If I punch her, don't say I didn't warn you."

Peter shook his head, smiling. "You won't do that, Meredith. I know you."

* * *

**My ultimate goal is to finish this little sub-story before posting the epilogue to **_**Outside Heaven**_**, to let you see what's happening **_**outside **_**of Ruthie's prison cell. I'm working almost every weekend, plus homework, so I can't be sure how frequent my updates will be. Maybe it'll be 11-11-11 after all. **


	2. Chapter 2

_The next morning…_

"You're really going? Peter, I'm impressed. When Emmy told me that you were coming today, I thought she was telling stories again," his mother's voice radioed through his cell phone receiver. Meredith didn't have a phone line connected to her apartment. Since both had cell phones, neither saw the point in installing a land line. Cell phones were so much more convenient.

"She really wanted me to come, and I couldn't let her down," Peter told his mother. He was standing in his girlfriend's kitchen gazing out the window. Meredith had gone into the bathroom a good hour ago. He was pacing the floor in a rhythmic pattern. His heart raced with angst and anticipation.

"I applaud you, honey. Peter, you have you have no idea how proud I am of you. You're such a good big brother," his mother's warm voice commented. Peter could feel his face burn hotly.

"It's not that big of a deal, Mom," he insisted. _It's time I face reality, _he told himself.

"After all you went through, it is. I know that Ruthie broke your heart, honey. Your father and I never blamed you for not wanting to go over to the parsonage after everything happened…"

"…Mom, I would rather not talk about it," Peter cut in.

"I understand. I just hope you're going to be all right—"

"—Mom, don't worry about me. I'm a big boy. I can handle myself." He interrupted his mother. His eyes were focused out the window. The sun was just beginning to rise.

The previous night had been all-too quiet. After he had told Meredith about his promise to his sister, the couple had barely spoken one word to each other. Meredith had gone to her bedroom with her laptop.

Peter, on the other hand, had sat in the living room watching the sports channel. Even though his legal residence was still at his parents' house, since his graduation, he had spent nearly every night at Meredith's small apartment. He might as well call her apartment 'home.'

It wasn't that he didn't love his parents and his sister, it was more he needed his privacy. He was a twenty-three-year-old man. The last thing he wanted was to be a forty-year-old man living in his mother's basement.

He wanted to marry Meredith, but he was afraid that she didn't want to marry him. They had discussed it a few times, and he knew that she was hesitant. She hadn't had the easiest life, and she had gone through several relationships that had ended in only pain. He wanted her to understand that he would never hurt her. Despite her claim that she knew that, she still was still reluctant to him in many ways. Though, he couldn't blame her.

Peter heard his mother release an exasperating sigh. "Peter, you're my son, and no matter how old you get, I'll worry about you."

"I know, Mom," he responded quickly.

"When you have children, you'll understand," his mother uttered a line that he had heard far too many times. _When I have children… _Peter thought, remembering a conversation he and Meredith had endured not too long ago.

Growing up, Peter's lifetime goal had been to have a son. He wanted to be the father that his father never was. Peter wanted to demonstrate to his father how a father was supposed to treat his son. Even though his father had returned during his teenage years, Peter secretly resented his father for missing out on the important years of Peter's life.

Meredith had plans of her own. She wanted to adopt a family of children, preferably five. Her ultimate goal was to prevent siblings from being separated, like hers had almost been. Meredith's philosophy on life was siblings needed to stay together, and she wanted to provide a home for a family of children who may not get to stay together if they were adopted elsewhere.

Peter respected her for that, but he still wanted to have a biological child of his own. And raising five, six, or more children simply seemed unrealistic to him. He only wanted one or two.

When he didn't respond, his mother concluded, "Well, I'll let you go. Your father and I are going to the parsonage early to help Lucy set up. We're leaving as soon as your father is finished shaving," his mother said. Taking a warm, heart-felt breath, she added, "I love you."

"I love you too, Mom," Peter spoke earnestly, ending the call. _You're never too old to tell your mother that you love her. _He took a deep breath as he set his cell phone on the teal-colored kitchen counter.

He turned around and gazed out the window again. The purple-like sky reflected on his retina. His eyes focused down on the street that was four stories below Meredith's apartment .Cars were hurriedly driving past; the road was busy for it being seven in the morning on the first day of winter vacation for the kids.

Then again, it wasn't just any first day of winter vacation. It was December 20, 2012, the day which had been projected as the last full day of days. Clearly, people wanted to live the day to its fullest.

Peter shook his head. He took his eyes off window's view and turned around. His hand gripped the refrigerator door, and he pulled it open. The refrigerator was nearly empty. Only half of a gallon of milk sat on the top shelf. Below it, on the second shelf, was a package of lunch meat. The door's shelves were supplied with ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise.

Meredith had been working long hours at the hospital for six days straight. Yesterday had been her first full day off in six days.

Peter had graduated exactly one week prior. Since then, his primary focus had been on setting up his internship. His internship was scheduled to begin on January second.

"_If we're here, that is," _his future supervisor had insisted. It disturbed Peter that actual psychologists who practiced psychology could believe in such foolishness.

He grabbed the milk and set it on the counter. Reaching for the cupboard, he took note of the stack of dirty cups in the sink. Opening the cupboard, he realized there wasn't a single clean cup inside. He realized that he shouldn't be surprised.

Every cup Meredith owned was piled in the sink. Also spread in the sink was a pile of knives and plates.

Without thinking, he found himself taking the dishes out of the sink. He plugged the drain and started running lukewarm water. Just as he was reaching for the dish soap to squirt into the water, he felt tight grip on his shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing?"

He flinched and spun around, coming face to face with a fully dressed Meredith. Her moose-brown shoulder-length hair was wavy from being blow-dried, and her soft lips were glossy. She smiled weakly as Peter gazed into her coffee-brown eyes.

"There you are," he grinned, giving her a peck on the forehead. "I was beginning to wonder if you had fallen in."

She smiled softly. Her crystal-white teeth sparkled. "No, I'm just a girl."

Peter's eyes traveled down Meredith's body, from head to toe. She wore a burgundy-silk long-sleeved shirt. On her right wrist, she wore a gold bracelet. Perfectly fitted boot-cut Lee jeans fitted around her waist. And so she was the same height as Peter, she wore three-inch brown boots. For dreading going to this party, she had taken careful thought into her clothing.

"You look nice," Peter smiled complimentary.

"Thank you. You look…all right yourself." Meredith lifted her right eyebrow.

He was dressed no different than he would any other day. His jeans were a little baggy, and he wore a Yankees T-shirt. After all, he found nothing special about the occasion.

"And please, don't do my dishes. I'll get to them when we get back," Meredith insisted. "I think we should head over to the parsonage early. Personally, I don't know about you, I would rather be there before the crowd gets there. That way we can maybe get out of there early, who knows, maybe before Ruthless arrives."

He released a disappointed sigh. "If you say so; I just talked to my mom a few minutes ago. She said that she and Dad are going early to help Lucy set up."

"That sounds like a plan to me," Meredith winked, grabbing his wrist. She tugged lightly.

"Wait. You mean that you want to go right _now_?" Peter inquired.

Meredith shrugged. "Now is as good as any time."

He nodded and grabbed his coat by the door, and the couple walked down the four flights of stairs to get to Peter's car. Meredith took a seat in the passenger's seat, and Peter started his car's ignition. He started to drive.

"So," Peter said quietly, while remaining his focus on the road. "Do you talk to Matt often?"

He could see Meredith shrug through his peripheral vision. "Every now and then; really, I talk to his wife more than I talk to him. His wife works in the pediatric wing, so it's not like we work together, but I see her in the cafeteria during lunch time."

Peter grunted. He vaguely remembered Matt's wife. Sarah was her name, he believed. The last time he had seen them, he could recall they had three small boys.

Suddenly, he swallowed and wondered if Ruthie had any children. His parents never brought up Ruthie's name when he was around. He knew quite well that Savannah's mother, Ruthie's older sister, had given birth to two more children since Peter had last stepped foot inside the parsonage.

Also, since Cecilia was Meredith's technical sister, he and Meredith were in contact with Cecilia and Simon. Peter was friends with both of them on Facebook, and Cecilia frequently posted pictures of their daughter Madi. Madi was growing up so fast. Also, Peter was aware that Simon and Cecilia were expecting again. From what he understood, Cecilia was due any day.

Really, that was all he knew when it came to the Camden-clan. And Peter hardly considered Simon and Cecilia to be part of the "clan." After all, they lived the farthest away, being in St. Louis.

"I don't suppose…"

"You don't suppose I know anything about Ruthie? Is that what you were going to ask?" He didn't respond. The slight frustration in Meredith's voice was apparent. Peter focused his eyes directly on the road, attempting not to look at Meredith through his peripheral vision. Nonetheless, he could feel she was rolling her eyes.

He took a deep breath, searching for a response.

Before he could come up with one, she released a loud, aggravating sigh. "Why does it even matter what she's been up to over these years, Peter? I don't understand how you could care. She hurt you, Peter. Remember?"

How could he forget? That didn't change the fact that Ruthie Camden had been his best friend during seventh and eighth grade. It didn't change the fact that he had fallen in love with her, yet he had denied it time and time again. And nothing could change the dream he had had two nights before.

Through his peripheral vision, he could see Meredith cross her arms.

"Meredith—"

"—never mind," she said flatly.

He bit his lip and continued to drive. The last thing he wanted to do was rile her up on a day like today. Between the two of them, they were under enough stress and anxiety.

Pulling onto Alda Road added enough tension on top of his already-tense muscles. His heart pounded inside his chest as he drove closer to 527 Alda Road. A shortness of breath overcame him. The air inside the car started to feel overly stuffy.

He slowed down in front of the parsonage. Immediately, Peter noticed that the driveway was empty. The only car within a block's radius was his parents'. It was parallel parked across the street from the parsonage.

In his direct line of vision, Peter took note to the house diagonally across from the parsonage. He swallowed thickly, remembering who had once lived there. The shades were pulled, and there wasn't a car in its driveway, either. _Maybe he moved away, _Peter secretly prayed.

Quickly, he pulled his car up beside his parents'. He turned his wheel all the way to the right and started to park parallel behind his parents. It had been awhile since he had last parallel parked, and he was up for some good practice.

Once the car was parallel parked, and Peter thought he had done a decent job, he shifted the car into a permanent parking slot. He looked toward Meredith. Her eyes were gazing in the same direction his had been when he had begun parking, at the house diagonal from the parsonage.

She suddenly realized that he was looking at her. Instantly, Meredith blinked and looked toward the parsonage. "Well, let's get this over with," she murmured, opening the passenger door.

Peter nodded and opened his own door. He stepped on the pale green grass and walked in front of the car. He grabbed Meredith's hand and looked both ways. Not a single car was in sight, much unlike the busy street in front of Meredith's apartment.

The couple crossed the street and began their journey up the parsonage's front door. Reluctantly, Peter found himself knocking on the door.

Moments later, the door swung open. He had expected to see Lucy or Kevin standing before him, but instead he saw a very familiar face. The little girl's blonde hair sparkled, and her eyes lit up when she saw his face.

"Peter, you're here!" Emmy chirped. Her arms opened widely as they swung around her. "Mom aid you wouldn't come, but I knew you would! You never break your promises."

He lifted the sixty-five pound seven year old up into his arms. "I'll never break a promise I make to you, Em, I promise." He kissed her forehead and looked back at Meredith, who was forcing a smile.

Behind Emmy, Peter saw Savannah, a red-haired girl, and a blonde-haired girl standing. Immediately Peter recognized the red-haired girl's noticeable eyes. They were blue and wide, and the last time Peter had seen her, she had been so small, just barely holding onto life. That had been five years ago. Bekah was still small for her age. The little girl who stood next to her was the same height as her.

Peter had never seen the little girl up close, but she was a miniature Savannah. Her features mimicked Savannah's from head to toe. Peter strained his memory to remember her name, but he couldn't place it off the top of his head.

"Who's here?" he heard a familiar high-pitched voice. He set Emmy down next to Savannah just as Lucy Kinkirk entered the living room. He watched her jaw drop. She then cried, "Peter!"

He felt his face flush red as the mother of four walked toward him. His eyes quickly observed Lucy. Despite having bore four children, Lucy was as thin and slender as she had been before Savannah was born. Somehow it felt just like yesterday. He was thirteen and had just moved into the neighborhood.

It was difficult to believe that ten years had passed, and everything was different.

"Peter, it's been so long, too long. I have to say, you are the last person I expected to see here," Lucy grinned, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"I invited him!" Savannah chimed. Her proud face lit up.

"Did you, Savannah?" Lucy took her hand off Peter and patted her daughter's head.

"I hope it's all right, Mom," Savannah said quietly.

"Oh, yes, it's fine. Peter is always welcome here," Lucy winked toward Peter. She glanced past Peter at Meredith and added on, "So is Meredith. Say, Meredith, have you spoken with Simon or Cecilia today?"

Meredith shook her head slowly. "No, why do you ask?"

Lucy shrugged. "Simon didn't answer his cell phone when I called earlier. I wanted to make sure he, Cecilia, and Madi got into town all right. With Cecilia approaching her due date, I wasn't sure if they'd even make it, to be all honest. When I talked to Simon last week, he said that they were going to make their best effort to make it."

Meredith shook her head. "Cecilia didn't say anything to me, so I don't know. I've been so busy at work the last week that I haven't had the time to catch up with my family."

Lucy nodded. "Matt mentioned to me that you were working in his department."

The door was still cracked open and a draft entered the room. The four girls had crossed their arms, shivering. "Here, let me close the door," Peter insisted, and Meredith moved to the side. He stretched his arm behind him to close the door. Just as he was about to close the door, he saw a car park in front of the parsonage. He raised his eyebrow, immediately recognizing the driver.

Behind him, Lucy also noticed the car park. "Speaking of the devil," she laughed.

Simon opened the driver's door and immediately unbuckled his daughter's seatbelt. The five year old hopped out of the car, and before her father could open the door to assist her pregnant mother, she began running toward the house.

"Aunt Lucy! Savvy! Bekah! Riah! Emmy!" the little girl cried, pushing past Peter, and Madi wrapped her arms around her cousins and Peter's sister.

At the same moment Simon was assisting his wife out of the car, another car pulled up right behind Simon. With his first glance, Peter did not recognize the driver of the car.

Lucy's eyes widened, they glossed over as she took a step outside. "It can't be," she mouthed.

Peter glanced again at the rental car. All at once, vivid memories were triggered.


	3. Chapter 3

The room went silent. Lucy's jaw had hit the floor.

Simon had begun helping his very-pregnant wife toward the door, when he appeared to notice the stares from the door. Wearing a curious face, he turned around, and he too stopped dead. He released his wife, who also turned around to see where all the stares aimed.

Lucy's lips closed. Her face stiffened. She grabbed her daughter's shoulder and whispered, "Savannah, how about you take all the kids upstairs?"

"Aw, Mom, why?" Savannah whined. The little girl peaked out the door, perplexed by all the stares. "Who's here?"

"Don't worry about it. Just take your sisters, and Madi and Emmy upstairs," Lucy firmly instructed her daughter. "Your dad should be up there with Isaiah. Tell your dad to come down for me, Sav."

The little girl stuck her lip out. "But—"

"—Savannah, no buts. Just do as I say, okay?" Lucy interrupted her daughter.

The little girl rolled her sparkling blue eyes. She threw herself around and interlocked her fingers with Madi and Moriah's fingers. "Come on," she sniped, suddenly reminding Peter of Lucy and Ruthie at times during the years he had spent at the Camden house.

When the kids were finally upstairs, Lucy released a loud sigh. "She's too young to be giving me the eye roll and the attitude. These last few days, I don't know what has gotten into her. Usually she does whatever I ask her to do."

At the same time, Peter's mom and dad came from the kitchen. "Kids are becoming hormonal younger, Luce," Peter's mom insisted, inviting herself into the conversation. She added, "Then again, Emma is my only daughter. But I know I didn't give my parents the eye roll until I was at least fifteen."

"I didn't until I was twelve," Lucy insisted. "But we've got bigger problems right now. Look who's here, Paris."

Peter watched his mother lift her left thick, blonde eyebrow. She headed toward the door, and gazed through the screen door. "Is that…no, it can't be…"

"It's Mary," Lucy moaned. "I don't know what she thinks she's doing here. I invited Carlos and the kids, like always. Carlos knows he's welcomed here. But Mary…she hasn't shown her face here in over four years! After she abandoned Ruthie like she did, I don't know what she thinks she's doing!"

Meredith's mouth line became thin with the mention of Ruthie's name. Peter clutched his fist and bit his tongue. He didn't know what Lucy was talking about. It was something his parents had never mentioned to him; they usually seemed to leave out all the details that involved Ruthie.

Simon had walked over toward the car. By then, a tall, blonde figure had stepped out of the car. Next to her were three children. The boy's head stood a little past his mother's shoulder when he stood on the curve, and his mother was still on the road. Two small girls stood with their backs against the car; they barely reached their mother's waist.

A man who Peter recognized was standing on the sidewalk, conversing with Simon. Simon and the man, who Peter realized must be Carlos, seemed to be having an engaging conversation. Mary, on the other hand, wore an annoyed look on her face. Her right hand was placed on her hips, and she held a flask in her other hand. Peter watched her take a drink from the flask.

"I hope Simon is finding out why she's here," Lucy snarled. Moments later, footsteps sounded from the stairway. Lucy lifted her head; her eyes glowed toward her husband, who held a blond toddler in his arms. "There you are!"

Peter had no problem deciphering the toddler as a Kinkirk. The toddler's deep blue eyes, identical to his sisters' eyes, wandered around the room at the strangers. Timidly, the boy buried his face in his father's chest.

"Savannah said you wanted me down here, Luce. What's going on?" Kevin inquired.

"Mary's here," Lucy answered with bitterness in her voice.

Kevin's eyes widened for a moment. He finally responded, "Okay? She's your sister, so I suppose she's welcome here, right? I don't see the big deal."

Lucy squint her eyes ferociously. "I think you'd better think again about what you just said, Kevin Kinkirk. _Mary, _my quote-in-quote sister, has not had the guts to show her face in the house for four years. She knows how I feel about what she did to Ruthie. She's only here to cause trouble, and you know that, Kevin."

"And how do you know she's here to cause trouble? What _trouble _could she possibly cause, Luce? I'm sorry, but you're blowing this out of proportion. It's Christmas, and she likely just wants to spend a Christmas with her family." Kevin's voice was flat, and his lips were pressed tightly together.

"I'm blowing this out of proportion?" Lucy sniped. "I don't think so. I don't _need _proof that she's here to cause trouble. Because face it, every time she shows up here, problems occur. It's a known fact. It's been one for years. Ever since…"

"…what happened to you trying to make peace with all your siblings?" Kevin cut in. "I thought you were working on forgiving them all. And you can't tell me that you and Mary weren't close for years. I remember…"

"Kevin, just shut up. You don't know what you're talking about. She hasn't contacted me in _four _years." Lucy rolled her eyes, similar to how her seven-year-old daughter had only a few minutes ago. And Lucy wondered where Savannah had gotten her attitude from.

Kevin wrinkled his forehead, and the room went silent. Peter met eyes with Meredith; he realized that Meredith seemed to be thinking the same thing that he was. He felt incredibly out of place, and Ruthie wasn't even present. Meredith had been right. They shouldn't have come.

Lucy shoved the front door open. Her vengeful eyes glared toward her older sister. Mary noticed that the door was open. Immediately, she waved. "Hey there, Luce! How's it going?" Mary acted like nothing was out of place. She grabbed daughters' hands and started to make her way toward the front door. Her son followed behind.

When she reached the steps that lead up to the front door, she almost tripped, but managed to catch her balance. Laughing lightly, she and the kids stopped in front of the door.

"What are you doing here?" Lucy immediately demanded. Then, she took note to the kids. Their innocent, small eyes wandered around with confusion. "Hey, kids. Your cousins are upstairs. How about you guys go join them? Charlie, you know your way around upstairs."

"Do I have to take them?" Charlie fussed, pointing to his sisters.

"Do as your aunt said." Mary dictated her son. "We have grown-up stuff to talk about, I'm sure."

"Fine," Charlie mumbled, grabbing his sisters' hands. "Let's go." The children disappeared up the stairs. Almost instantaneously, Lucy's fiendish glare aimed toward her sister.

"_What_ are you doing here?" Lucy spat again.

Mary shook her head. "The last time I checked, it's Christmas, and you're my sister. I think I'm welcome here. I wanted to revisit old times, you know. Sometimes I miss this house."

"You haven't been here in four years!" Lucy cried. "_Four _years. Why would you decide to show up now? And after how you left last time, I can't think of any decent reason you have to be here."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Mary lifted her dark eyebrows. "Has it really been four years? Time sure does go fast, doesn't it? I've missed talking to you, Luce. I wish you'd call more. We used to talk all the time."

Lucy's mouth opened, but words didn't come out. Her eyes bulged. Peter glanced toward Meredith, who shrugged. _We need to get out of here, _he thought.

"After what you did to Ruthie, I don't know how you could say that," Lucy replied bitterly, and she turned to Paris, shaking her head, "I need to go check on the ham." And that was all she said. She left the room and headed toward the kitchen.

Peter met eyes with his mother. He knew that she had to know what he was thinking. "Peter, why don't you and Meredith go and check on the kids?" his mother insisted. At the same time his mother said his name, Peter noticed Mary's eyes widen.

Meredith nodded, "That sounds like a goo—"

"—you're Peter? _The _Peter?" Mary interrupted; awe filled her face.

"Um…yes," Peter responded, confused. _She must be thinking of someone else, _Peter thought_, unless Ruthie told Mary about me, but what could Ruthie possibly tell Mary? _

"It's a small world, isn't it?" Mary inquired. "Boy, do I have stuff to tell you…" she turned around, "but I'd rather do it without so many people around."

"Peter, what's going on?" Meredith asked. "And whatever she has to tell you, she can tell you in front of your girlfriend."

"I…I don't know," Peter stuttered. "But…I think you should go upstairs…go check on the kids."

The front door opened, and Simon, Cecilia, and Carlos swayed into the room. "Simon, Carlos, just the men I needed!" Kevin's eyes widened. "We have a mission to go on…"

"Oh, what's that?" Simon lifted his bushy, blond eyebrows.

"Well, you see, we don't have a Christmas tree yet..."

Simon and Carlos looked at each other. "We're on it," they reacted at the same time.

"You're good men," Kevin winked. He handed Meredith the toddler he held in his arm. "Take Isaiah upstairs with you when you go to check on the kids, okay?" Meredith nodded. Kevin turned to Carlos and Simon, "Let's go tell Lucy where we're going—otherwise she'll be fretting." The men vanished toward the kitchen.

"I reckon we should go help Lucy with the ham," Paris insisted, glaring at her husband.

"But—But it was just getting good! I want to know…"

"I'll tag along with you guys, if that's all right," a ready-to-explode Cecilia insisted.

"Oh, Cecilia, you should sit down," Paris insisted.

"There are chairs in the kitchen. Really, I'm feeling fine."

Paris nodded, though she was bombarded with her husband's pouty face. "Come on!" Paris snagged her husband's hand. Vic sulked, and followed his wife; Cecilia waddled after them.

That left Peter and Meredith, holding the toddler, and Mary alone. The toddler rested his head on Meredith's shoulder. Peter's heart warmed when he saw Meredith with the little guy. _Someday she'll make a great mother, _Peter thought, smiling to himself.

Meredith smiled. "So, what do you want to tell Peter?" Her eyes aimed at Mary.

"Meredith, I think you should go upstairs…I'm sure it's a misunderstanding," Peter assured Meredith.

Meredith sighed. "Okay. Or I could do that. After all, I trust you, Peter. And after all, if it involves Ruthie it'll only upset me anyway. I don't want to know. It's none of my business." Meredith shook her head, and soon disappeared upstairs with the toddler.

"There's no misunderstanding here," Mary chuckled. "Believe me."

"Does it involve Ruthie?" Peter immediately asked. "Tell me what Ruthie told you about me!"

Mary laughed. "Oh, she told me plenty…like Christmas 2007. Remember that?"

Peter felt his pulse slow down. _Christmas 2007, _it felt like forever ago, though it had only been five years. Five years had passed since that fateful day he had seen Ruthie Camden bawling her eyes out on a bench at her family's church. He remembered contemplating on whether or not he should stop. The minute his eyes had spotted her, a rush of memories hit him. He remembered his emotional goodbye to Ruthie Camden when she told him that she was moving to London.

He remembered crying himself to sleep that night. He had loved Ruthie Camden, and even though he had avoided all chances to contact her over those previous months, he still had loved her. He knew that he had to pull over and help her.

Had he known what was going to happen later that day, he would have given anything to go back and tell himself to not pull over. If only he could have stayed in his car and kept going. Then his end with Ruthie Camden wouldn't have been so painful, and he wouldn't have the harsh feelings he had toward her.

He remembered how she had laid next to him his bed. How her warm skin had rubbed against his body, and how they had made love. The moment had been one he had dreamed about for year; it was one that he hadn't believed would ever come true. At the time, he cherished it. She had been his first, and he would always remember that moment.

That afternoon had been one story he had kept from Meredith. He had spent months and years trying to deny that it happened. Denying its true existence helped, and made him feel less guilty. He knew that he should have told Meredith the whole truth in the beginning; but if she knew, he feared that she wouldn't love him anymore.

Meredith had told Peter about how hurt she had felt when Martin had told her that he had slept with Sandy, and how she had broken up with him when he had told her that he was going to be a father. _Thankfully, I'm not a father, _he thought. But if he were to tell Meredith the truth now, he knew that he would take it as him feeling he needed to lie to her. She couldn't handle it.

"You do remember," Mary noted. "Don't you?"

"What about it?" Peter gave her a shifty look. "Just tell me."

"Hey, Meredith looks really cute with the baby in her arms, don't you think? Have you two discussed having children?" Mary asked.

The sudden change of topic baffled Peter. What was Mary getting at? Was she playing him? Was this some sick joke of hers? Ruthie had told him about Mary. Peter remembered that Mary was arrested her senior year for breaking into the gym. She had moved to New York to live with her grandparents, and she had gone through many "career changes." Ruthie had always described Mary as her "wild" sister. When she was young, Ruthie had told him that she was close to her eldest sister. But they drifted apart.

_Now Ruthie's just like Mary, _Peter thought, thinking about what Lucy had said to Mary. _"After what you did to Ruthie…"_ What had Mary done to Ruthie?

"Just tell me," Peter spoke dryly. "Is this a game? I don't have time for games."

"Oh, there's no game here. Have you spoken to Ruthie lately?" Mary asked.

"No," Peter answered. "Why should I?"

"Well, I'd ask her how old her oldest daughters are if I were you…now, I think I'll go help my lovely younger sister in the kitchen with dinner. Merry Christmas to you, Peter," Mary grinned. She disappeared toward the kitchen, leaving Peter with a mind full of questions.

He turned around and ran up the stairs.

Last time he had been to the parsonage, the attic had been turned into the playroom. He remembered spending hours in the attic with Ruthie when he was in middle school. It was the room that had been Ruthie's; they had built a volcano in that room, they had spent hours working on homework, and they had spent hours just talking.

He peeked in the room that had once belonged to Ruthie's youngest brothers, Sam and David. He remembered once when Ruthie had tried to explain to him who had all lived in each room. It confused him, but he remembered Ruthie telling him that was the room which she had shared with Simon.

The room had a different atmosphere now. A crib was in the corner of the room, and a blue rug covered the room's floor. A diaper-changing station was against the wall, and the room was littered with stuffed animals. Peter could tell that the room belonged to Isaiah.

He moved to the next room, which Peter clearly remembered belonging to Simon. The room's dark walls had been painted over with purple paint. Purple rugs covered the room, and dolls were everywhere. A bed covered with purple sheets leaned against the room. There was no doubt that the room now belonged to a young girl.

He looked down the hallway at the bedroom that had been Robbie's before he had moved out, and afterward the bedroom had belonged to the wretched Martin. He peaked in the room, only to realize that the notorious Hello Kitty room was the only room that hadn't changed at all. The room's history had been preserved. The two were in the same position they had been when he was in seventh grade.

"Mommy, I'mma big girl! Leave me 'lone!" Peter jumped at the sound of a little girl's voice. He turned around, where he saw a familiar face, holding onto a small blonde child's hand.

He froze, and so did the little girl and her mother.

"Hi," he finally said.

"It's Peter, isn't it?" the woman asked, as he strained his memory.

"Yes…" he trailed, and out of the blue he remembered. "Roxanne, right?"

"It's been forever, Peter. I see your mother all the time. Wow, you've grown up over these last few years, haven't you? I see college has really been good for you."

"I think it has," Peter answered. He smiled down at the little girl, "and who's this?"

"This is Chandler's and my daughter, Cassi," Roxanne introduced her daughter. "Cassi, say hi to Peter. He's an old friend."

"Hi, Petey. You don't look _that _old," the little girl giggled.

Peter remembered Roxanne and Chandler announcing that they were expecting that Christmas 2007. He also remembered hearing his parents mention Roxanne and Chandler occasionally. He took note to the little girl's adorable blue eyes, replicas of her mother's.

A few seconds later, a tall teenager appeared behind Roxanne. At first Peter didn't recognize him. He had only been a young teenager when Peter had last seen him, and Peter never had the opportunity to get to know him.

"Jeffrey, what are you doing up here?" Roxanne questioned the teenager.

"Dad says I have to help with the kids," the teenager moaned. "You know, I could be out with my _friends_ partying up on the last day of the world. But, no, I have to be _here_, where there's not a single person my age."

"Jeffrey, how many times do I have to tell you that the world isn't going to end tomorrow?" Roxanne shook her head. "It's an ancient calendar, and you can't believe it."

"Millions of people all over the world believe it," Jeffrey stated. "So why shouldn't I?"

Roxanne sighed. "Take your sister upstairs. I'm going to downstairs and help Lucy." She vanished moments later.

Jeffrey groaned and grabbed Cassi's hand. "Come on, squirt." He then turned to Peter. "Who the heck are you?"

"I'm Peter…Peter Petrowski," Peter introduced himself.

"Oh, right. I've heard about you. You're Vic and Paris's oldest kid…Emma's sister. You're a psychology major, right?"

"I just graduated," Peter responded. He followed Jeffrey and Cassi up the stairs.

"I see, then from a psychologist's point of view, is the world ending tomorrow?" Jeffrey inquired.

"Well, as in the words of Franklin D. Roosevelt, the only thing we have to fear is fear itself. Honestly, I think that people have blown an ancient calendar completely out of proportion. If the world does end tomorrow, it certainly won't because of the Mayans say so. Only man will cause the end of the world."

Jeffrey gazed back at Peter, dumbstruck. "You would say that."

Meredith was sitting on the floor playing a game with the kids. She held Isaiah on her lap. Peter took note to the grin on her face. She truly looked like she was enjoying herself. _She'll make a great mother someday, _Peter thought to himself.

She looked up and sprang off the floor with the toddler still in her arms. "There you are, Peter! What did Mary want?"

Peter shook his head. "It's nothing, like I told you. She's full of it…I think it was some of game of hers."

Jeffrey snickered. "Mary's here? I remember her…Dad says she's a character, and usually when Dad says someone's a character, that means they're a drunk."

Peter glanced at Jeffrey blankly. Somehow that surprised him. The Camden women had always been a little nutty, but he couldn't see any of them being drunks. He had always figured it was their genes. _Maybe it's more than just their genes._

Ruthie had almost murdered him when she had caught him drinking. There was no way.

Maybe, just maybe he didn't know the Camdens as well as he thought he had. Growing up, he would have given anything to be a Camden. Having an alcoholic father who had abandoned him had made him resent his life. He had hated his own life.

Then he met Ruthie Camden. She had a loving mother and a loving father. She had six siblings who all appeared to get along. He would have given anything to be adopted into the Camden family, or at least married into the Camden family.

He remembered being thirteen and mentally planning his own wedding. He had always pictured Ruthie standing there in a white, silk wedding dress. She was beautiful. They would get married, and live happily ever after.

His future had altered since he was thirteen. Now, instead of seeing Ruthie Camden in that silk, white wedding dress, he saw Meredith. It was amazing how everything could change in nearly ten years.

* * *

**Author's note: **Hi guys, if anyone is still reading. I'd just thought I'd leave a note here saying that I'm going on vacation next week, so I'll be without a computer for a good week. All I'll have is my cell phone, which I do receive all emails and alerts on. I just can't reply to Fanfiction alerts, though I can reply to email.

Another term is complete here, and I've been trying to get as much writing done as I can. I don't have any writing classes next term – thank goodness (I love writing, but not for class) – so maybe I'll be able to write more for my own pleasure.


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